


Effervescent

by kittylullu123



Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But George still loves him, But its ok he's gonna get it, Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Gay, M/M, Matty is a bit of a dick, Matty needs some help, Strong Female Characters, Strong Language, fall out and make up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 06:39:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittylullu123/pseuds/kittylullu123
Summary: For all Matty liked to appear to be a deep, introspective man he knew that was all bullshit. He was fucking terrified of looking at himself objectively. He was terrified of looking into a mirror and realising that what was looking back was some monster, some obscene creature who didn’t look anything like the inspired, anxious and effervescent young man he liked to believe he was.AKA: Matty has a lot of issues, George can't deal with them, OFC has to come and sort him out and then everything is ok againBrief mentions of suicide but no actual descriptions of it





	Effervescent

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 2am so sorry if there are a few mistakes. I tried my best not to romanticise anything but let me know if you think its problematic and I will do my best to change bits. Also sorry if it moves too fast- I got quite tired but really wanted to finish it while I had the motivation. Also I am fully aware that this is not how the actual incident went down it just happens to be the basis of the story.
> 
> Drug addiction is a real problem and if you are suffering with it then call:  
> 0300 123 6600 (UK)  
> 1-888-633-3239 (US)

Matty was out again. Matty was always out. It had never been a problem before, but before it was always MattyandGeorge who were out whereas now it was just Matty. Not that George didn’t want to be out he was just never invited anymore, ever since Matty’s “friends” had decided that he wasn’t fun enough for them because he didn’t want to shoot up heroin and snort lines every time he got mildly bored. And it felt weird to go out without Matty, although apparently that wasn’t the case on the other side. So instead George was home. Again. Waiting for Matty to also come home. Again. Not really expecting him to but also not wanting to face the prospect of having to go to their bedroom alone. Again. Knowing that he was probably going to fall asleep on the sofa cuddling a cushion in order to avoid that and wake up with his legs and back aching like a stiff board and Matty sat in a chair opposite and wondering why he didn’t just sleep in a bed like a normal person. Again.

It had all become routine, but George didn’t know how much longer he could deal with that kind of routine. Ever since August he had been putting up with Matty’s mood swings and his shitty attitude and his not wanting to make music and he didn’t know how much longer he could deal with his best friend and the love of his life slowly destroying himself for the sake of some image which wasn’t even him in the first place. But he knew he had to because otherwise Matty’s so-called ‘friends’ would ruin him, and no matter how pissed off he got, he could never let anything happen to Matty. Never had been able to and never would be.

To his surprise he heard Matty stumble in through the door. Heard him drop his keys on the floor and exclaim ‘shit’ and then heard him drop to the floor after them and have to crawl into the living room, clearly completely off his head. George had no idea how he’d got home but was just grateful that he had. He wasn’t bothered to help him though- he just sat there staring at Matty, who was now sprawled completely flat, face down on the rug by the coffee table. It took him a moment to notice George but when he did, he began to whine.

‘George, Georgey, help me up. I don’t think I have legs anymore. Or arms. I think I’m just a floating body.’ He began to laugh at his own delusions but George was too tired to laugh along with him

‘Why aren’t you laughing?’ Matty looked genuinely confused ‘I’m just a floating body George isn’t that funny?’

‘Not really, no’ George looked at him coldly, wondering where he had been and who with and what exactly he had taken, but also knowing that he would never get a straight answer to those questions.

‘You know what your problem is George?’ Matty exclaimed suddenly, loudly, but still with his face pressed into the rug. ‘You’re no fun. You just sit there in your chair and judge everyone who wants to go out and have some fun. All I want to do is have fun but you won’t let me will you. Noooo too fucking dependent on me you are- can’t even go to bed without me there to tuck you in.’

Matty’s tone was becoming increasingly erratic and George wondered if he knew how deep his words were cutting- he doubted it- he knew it was just the drugs, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

‘Sorry that I’m too boring for you’ George replied coldly, wanting to leave but still not wanting to return to their cold and empty bed with Matty out here on the carpet. At that precise moment Matty stood up and sat on the other end of the sofa, staring at George with a strange look in his eyes. ‘You’re like the devil.’ He proclaimed ‘You sit there, and you think you have the right to punish me for going out and having fun. Well fuck you. I want to have fun and I will. Your opinion doesn’t mean anything to me, you, George are irrelevant, you don’t mean shit.’

George didn’t often get angry, that wasn’t really his vibe. But at that moment he felt anger surge up inside himself, only just managing to keep it down. ‘Well, I would have thought your boyfriend’s opinion did mean something to you but thank you for your feedback I’ll take it on board.’

‘You’re not my fucking boyfriend George stop being so needy. I don’t sleep with you anymore do I? There’s hundreds of blokes I’d like to shag more than you and they wouldn’t judge me for having a bit of fun.’ And that right there was the limit. He knew Matty didn’t mean it. Knew he got himself into these rages where he would say anything to piss someone off, especially when he was feeling shitty about himself. But George couldn’t handle it anymore. He needed a break.

‘Alright well if that’s the case then I’m sure you won’t mind me leaving. I’ll see you tomorrow Matty, when you’ve figured your fucking head out a bit.’ Matty didn’t seem to be listening, in fact he was already close to passing out on the sofa, but he didn’t look so fucked up that he was in danger, so George left him to it.

The next afternoon Matty woke up with a banging headache, a stiff back and an empty space where there ought to have been a George next to him. He stood up and immediately regretted it, sitting back down and grabbing his phone so he could focus on something other than the immediate urge to vomit. He had a bunch of missed calls and texts from his mates but none from George and the flat was too quiet for him to be there so he must be somewhere. He vaguely remembered an argument from the night before, fuck, he’d have to apologise for that once George got back from the shops or wherever he was. As he began checking his messages he realised there was one odd one. It was from Ross’ girlfriend Poppy. She’d gone to school with them and they’d been mates for ages but she wasn’t one for messaging really, not casually anyway. But then, as Matty opened it he realised it wasn’t as casual as he’d imagined.

It read:

_George is staying with me and Ross for a bit. As far as I’m concerned he shouldn’t come back until you apologise but that’s up to him I guess._

_He’s sleeping now but he’ll probably message you when he wakes up._

_You’re a proper dick for all the shit you said btw_

He was confused. Sure they’d had an argument but he was sure it wasn’t that bad. George was good at arguing back and he usually just told Matty to shut up if he was chatting shit, why would he be staying at Poppy’s? Why there of all places? Why had he not come back home? Matty couldn’t deal with the questions on his own so he dealt with them with some help, by calling up a mate and shooting up all in the space of about thirty minutes. That’s why he loved heroin most, that instant high which took you away from all your problems.

The next few days were a blur of highs for hours and lows for minutes, until he could get his next hit. He ate when the drugs dictated it and he caught fitful sleep whenever he had to wait more than ten minutes for more gear to be brought to him. In the miniscule moments of clarity he began to recall the terrible things he’d said to George, but that wasn’t a problem- the drugs could help with that too.

Suddenly it was Friday, and George had been gone for five days and there was a banging on the door to match the banging in his head, as his mates had finally got fed up of him and gone home and so sobriety had prevailed. Meaning Matty had been throwing his guts up for the best part of two hours and shaking so much he thought he might actually have to go to the hospital.

He opened the door, wondering who had come to seek sanctuary at the drug den now only to be confronted with a very angry Poppy, who looked a lot more put together than him despite the seething anger which was rolling off her in waves. ‘Ah fuck.’ Was all Matty could manage, retreating to the kitchen and leaving her to follow him.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?’ She was asking, but Matty was getting the feeling she didn’t want an answer

‘George has been calling you for days, you wouldn’t answer your fucking phone, wouldn’t answer the door he’s been worried sick you prick.’

‘Why didn’t he just let himself in then? I’ve only been in the house, he would have found me if he’d come looking.’ Matty replied smartly, but with little energy. He didn’t really see the point in this fight, George had clearly given up on him, so why was she bloody ranting like it was his fault.

‘He forgot his keys the night he went out in the pouring fucking rain to get away from you.’ Poppy seemed past the point of angry now and Matty was suddenly very aware that he was in a kitchen where there were plenty of sharp objects for her to attack him with and tried to form a plan to get out with what little brain power he had. It wasn’t very successful.

‘Well then it’s his fucking fault for leaving isn’t it.’ It was clearly the wrong thing to say because Poppy’s eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of her head and she was clearly holding herself back from punching him straight in the face if her bunched up fists were any indication.

‘Oh, oh, it’s his fault is it? It’s his fault you’re a prick who told him you weren’t dating? It’s his fault that he got upset when you said you would shag hundreds of guys rather than him? It’s his fucking fault, is it, that he tries and tries to support you and love you and do what’s best for you and you throw it back in his face like it’s nothing. You are tearing that boy apart Matty Healy and I for one am not fucking having it. He’s staying with us until you get your act together and apologise. Grow a pair and stop being a fucking wanker mate, because soon enough everyone is going to get bored of your bullshit and the world will move on and you’ll be stuck in the same fucking place, and I’m sure as hell not going to let you drag George down with you just because he loves you too much for his own good.’

And with that she slapped him round the face and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Matty’s initial anger dissipated pretty quickly, as did his headache once he took some ibuprofen. But Poppy’s words wouldn’t get out of his head. He knew that he had fucked up and in the back of his mind he knew that he had said those things to George, his George. Unfathomable things, untrue things, awful, awful things. But he didn’t know how to make it better. How do you make it better when it feels like you’ve gone so far there’s no way back?

He sat at the kitchen table for what felt like ages before he dragged himself into the bedroom. He sat on the bed and then he lay on the bed and then he noticed the empty space beside him and how the bed felt like it went on for ages because it was long to accommodate for George’s height and he began to cry. And then, once he stopped crying, he went over to George’s wardrobe and pulled out the only hoodie George owned and put it on and started crying again. He was crying so much he didn’t know if he would ever stop. He didn’t see the point in stopping to be honest, he knew that George would never come back so at this point Matty might as well just cry until he drowned in his own tears like Alice in Wonderland.

And then he shoved his hands in the pocket of the hoodie and felt something smooth, papery, like a flyer, and he wondered if it was one of the many random paper objects which George liked to write ideas down on whenever he was out, and there was a sort of morbid curiosity there because the band was clearly over now, so he wanted to see what could have been, but when he pulled it out it was a flyer for a rehab centre in Barbados and at the bottom in George’s big, sprawling script were two words ‘for Matty?’

And that’s when it hit him like a brick. George was there for him, always. Even when Matty couldn’t be bothered to be present for himself, much less another person, George wanted to help. And wasn’t it the least he could do to email them? He didn’t think it would help much but London was starting to feel like it was suffocating him and at least if it all went wrong he could just live in Barbados for the rest of his life and avoid anyone who knew how he had fucked up his life so much.

So, he emailed them, and then he looked at his phone. And it was surprisingly empty. There were no texts from his mates, apart from one from Ross warning him about Poppy’s visit and also calling him a massive wanker and one from Hann with much the same sentiment. Matty didn’t blame them, if he could he would have sent them himself. But there were sixty missed calls from George, sixty. And over thirty texts. In five days. Matty only hated himself more. But he figured he at least owed George the decency of knowing where he was going for a month- so he went into the bathroom, wiped his eyes and clicked call.

George picked up almost immediately

‘Hello’ His voice was hoarse, he sounded awful and Matty had this awful image of him sat in a dark room thinking terrible things, although he knew Poppy and Ross wouldn’t allow it.

‘Um hi- listen George, I know I’ve been a bad lately, awful really and I wanted to say that I’m really fucking sorry. I don’t expect you to believe me or even want to listen to me, but I wanted you to know that I’m going away for a bit.’

‘Fuck Matty slow down. What do you mean you’re going away for a bit?’

‘I’m just- not going to be around for a while and I thought I should say bye before I go.’

‘Matty are you saying what I think you’re saying?’ George’s tone had a sense of urgency and Matty could hear him moving around all of a sudden

‘I- I don’t know, what do you think I’m saying?’ Matty was genuinely confused, he didn’t know why George seemed so upset, surely this was a good thing?'

‘Ok, ok, I’ll be over soon, can you just hold on till I come over, no wait maybe I shouldn’t tell you that I’m coming because you’ll think you have to do it sooner- what the fuck do you say to someone who’s about to kill themselves?’ That last part was under his breath and to himself but Matty couldn’t believe what he was hearing- he wanted to correct George but no words would come out of his mouth.

‘Shit- Listen Matty I love you, shut up Poppy, I love you so much but I can’t tie my shoes with one hand, which is crap for a drummer but apparently true. Can you just hold on for a few moments while I tie them and run over? I promise I will be as fast as I can I just need five minutes max- can you hold on for five minutes for me?’ Matty didn’t know what to say- he couldn’t figure out how they’d even got to this point.

‘Matty? Can you?’ George sounded desperate and Matty wanted him to feel better so he forced out a reply

‘Uh-Yeah’ Was all that came out and his brain was screaming at him to tell George what was actually happening but his mouth couldn’t form the words.

‘Ok love, I’ll be there in five, I love you I promise we’ll get through this.’ And George hung up.

And that’s when Matty realised how serious this all was. George was- George thought- was on his way back because he thought Matty was going to kill himself. For fucks sake. That’s how unstable Matty appeared to be. For all Matty liked to appear to be a deep, introspective man he knew that was all bullshit. He was fucking terrified of looking at himself objectively. He was terrified of looking into a mirror and realising that what was looking back was some monster, some obscene creature who didn’t look anything like the inspired, anxious and effervescent young man he liked to believe he was.

Effervescent was a word George had taught him once. On a rainy day in Cheshire where there was nothing else to do, they had decided to play the game from Narnia- one of Matty’s favourite childhood books- the dictionary game. The rules were simple: One person looks into a dictionary and reads out a word- the other has to guess what the word means. Matty usually knew the words, so on his turn he liked to make up stupid definitions to see which one would make George laugh the most. He liked making George happy, he liked making everyone happy really but making George happy was the best because he had this really big smile which felt like a reward somehow- like you’d received a gift for being special enough to make him laugh. Anyway, on his turn George chose the word ‘effervescent’ and Matty had gotten it mixed up with iridescent, so he’d got it wrong, which didn’t bother him as he knew that George was already well aware that even if he was book smart he was an idiot really so there was no judgement there, particularly because George was a bit of an idiot too and that’s why they were friends really. But then George had read out the actual definition: _Vivacious and enthusiastic_ , which had, of course, led to Matty having to explain what vivacious meant- they were only 14 to be fair- but once he had ( _attractively lively and animated_ ) George had looked thoughtful for a while and then said, ‘That’s a good word for you, You’re effervescent.’ And he had looked like he really meant it, but Matty just blushed (because George had inadvertently called him attractive and he really wasn’t, not back then) and brushed it off, saying something like ‘Oh fuck off, I’m not vivacious and enthusiastic, I’m depressing and serious, can’t you tell?’ and pulling his best serious face, in an effort to make George laugh and to move the conversation away from compliments, which his insecure pre-pubescent self really couldn’t deal with.

He wished he had accepted it properly now. He wished he could have believed that he was truly effervescent, because then maybe he wouldn’t be here, now. Maybe if he had carried the belief that he was naturally lively and animated he wouldn’t have tried to compensate for his perceived lack of that by using as many drugs as he could find and hanging out with people who reinforced the idea that he was only fun when he was on them. Perhaps then George wouldn’t have had to leave, and Poppy wouldn’t have had to come over and shout at him and he wouldn’t be too afraid to look in the mirror now, scared of who he would see looking back at him.

The sound of the door opening shocked him out of his melancholic daze. The sound of George rushing in, frantic and scared sped up the world again, a welcome change from the slow, tedious pace of the world Matty had immersed himself in for the last week. And fuck- had it only been a week since George had left? It felt like years. It felt like a whole lifetime away from not just George but himself, and who he had used to be- who he wasn’t anymore, but who he desperately wanted to get back.

‘Matty? Matty- shit- Matty I’m coming in ok? I’m coming in and I’m not leaving you again I swear’ The sound of thumping on the door followed George’s words and it sounded like it really hurt. Matty knew what he was doing, knew he was throwing himself against the bathroom door to break it down. Knew that he was doing it all because he probably thought Matty was dying in here. And worst of all he knew that all he had to do to stop George hurting himself was to go over and unlock the door- or even just answer him, let him know that he wasn’t passed out unconscious on the floor or in the bath, let him know that he was alive. But he couldn’t, and in that moment, he knew that, Poppy had been right all along. He was hurting George, he was always hurting George, even when he didn’t mean to, even when George chose to do it Matty equally chose not to stop him. And that was another reason why he didn’t want to look in the mirror, he didn’t want to see the man who let his best friend rip himself apart to save him, that wasn’t George’s responsibility. He wanted to see the boy who knew that if they all stitched up each other’s wounds and supported each other then they would all get be ok in life, no matter what it threw at them, but he knew that instead all that would stare back at him was a man who caused the wounds, not the boy who desperately wanted to fix them.

He hated himself in that moment. He hated himself in the next moment. He particularly hated himself in the moment that George came crashing through the door and Matty remained completely still, sat on the edge of the bath with his head in his hands, not moving an inch, not reacting to the pain in his best friend’s groan or the shocked gasp he made when he realised that Matty wasn’t dead.

‘Fuck. Ok. Fuck.’ George didn’t normally swear this much, he usually only swore when he was angry, which wasn’t often, he had a very zen vibe, as wanky as that sounded. He was of the opinion that everything in life happened for a reason, whereas Matty was of the opinion that life was out to fuck you over entirely and you had to fight against it with everything you had. They had used to balance each other out nicely when Matty had listened to George, instead of plugging his ears and following entirely in a poisonous idea that if the whole world wanted him to dance for them like a little monkey then he would give them a fucking show.

‘Matty look at me.’ George’s hands grasped at his wrists, pulling them away from his face, but Matty didn’t open his eyes.

‘Matty I need to see if you’ve taken anything. If you have, we need to get you to a hospital really quickly ok? So, I just need you to look at me.’ George begged, and he was so close to his face Matty could feel his breath, could practically hear the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

‘Haven’t’ Matty mumbled, suddenly so embarrassed and ashamed that he wasn’t sure he could open his eyes, even if he wanted to.

‘What? Matty I can’t understand you I just need you to look at me please babe.’

The ‘babe’ didn’t help, if anything it made Matty feel worse, a spike of anger, only for a second, residual resentment at George for leaving him, lasting no time at all but somehow enough for him to open his eyes and stare resolutely at George, proclaiming ‘I haven’t taken anything ok, that’s not what I was trying to-‘ He trailed off as George looked at him in bewilderment and fear. Like he didn’t know what Matty had become, like he saw the monster Matty knew he was.

‘On the phone, you said you were going away for a while and I thought- fuck Matty I thought…’

‘You thought I was going to off myself- I know, but if you’d just let me finish instead of fucking running all the way here, which must have been the most exercise you’ve done since PE at school, you would know that I am going to Barbados, for rehab, because I’m a fucking dickhead and I don’t want to tear our lives apart.’ Matty was quiet, but suddenly definite, cocksure, as if asking someone to find a flaw in his plan, which wouldn’t be hard, but he was looking for a fight. George, of course, knew better than to give him one.

‘You know I never did PE, I just sat behind the bushes with you and had a smoke and then we re-joined the running right at the very end, when they came around on the last lap so as not to arouse suspicion.’ George looked him right in the eye, daring him to say something contradictory, as if the worst thing he had done all week had been to accuse him of actually participating in compulsory sport.

Matty let out a laugh, which had probably been George’s aim now he came to think of it and said, ‘Really didn’t think that was the part you were going to focus on to be honest mate’.

‘Well that’s the only bad thing you said, and I always like to get the bad news over before the good news can begin.’ George’s reply came with that same attitude, like he knew that he was being obtuse, and he wanted to know what Matty was going to do about it. It was like testing the waters by jumping straight in and hoping that there were no sharks to come and eat you.

‘I really mean it though, I’m a prick and I knew that already but, well Poppy came over and told me some stuff, which you probably knew’ ‘I guessed, yeah, Ross wouldn't let me see her for a while when she got back because she was so angry’ He let out a small, breathy laugh.

‘Well I reckon she was probably right about it all to be honest. And then I came in here to have a little breakdown, as I do, and well, and don’t laugh ok? But I realised something’

‘That you’re a bit of a dick?’ George said, trying to lighten the mood but Matty could only reply with a tight-lipped smile.

‘Well yeah, but George- it’s- I- I know it’s weird but I realised that I can’t look in the mirror.’

‘Well I know I put it up, but I didn’t think you were that short mate.’ George’s jokes were inevitable, as Matty had learnt about George from an early age: he was great in a crisis, but he would always have to make a couple of jokes just to ease the tension.

‘No, seriously George, I haven’t looked in one for days and when I tried to I physically couldn’t- I was too scared of what I would see.’

George contemplated this for a moment before replying with ‘Do you know what I see?’

‘Don’t George, don’t do that, I don’t want some stupid romanticised version of this. I know I look like a heroin addict, a cocaine addict. I look like someone who has driven all of my friends away, who hasn’t left the house in a week, who hasn’t eaten in two days. I look like a monster and I deserve that, but I’m inherently a narcissist- how can I be a narcissist if I can’t look at myself?’ Matty’s tone was harsh and he wondered for a moment if he ought to have been softer, so as not to drive George away. But George looked like he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, despite how uncomfortable his position (sat on the bathroom floor at Matty’s feet) looked.

‘You’re not a monster Matty, and you’re only a little narcissistic, but I think it’s ok to admire yourself, you’re an amazing person after all and very beautiful’ He winked at Matty, another attempt at easing tension which nevertheless made Matty’s heart flutter in a way it hadn’t in a while. ‘You have bags under your eyes from never sleeping, and they’re bloodshot for the same reason. Your skin is sallow and you’re just generally too thin. Somehow your hair is only as much of a mess as usual but the rest of you is a little bit more messed up than It should be right now.’

‘Jesus, thanks for the confidence boost mate.’ Matty said dryly

‘Fuck off. I’m just saying- that’s the truth, you look a bit shit right now. But you’re not a monster, you’re still human and you still mean the fucking world to me.’

And fuck Matty thought he was the one who was supposed to be eloquent and good with words, but George had just blown anything Matty had every written out of the fucking park. Matty just looked at George helplessly, no words could come out of his mouth after that, he didn’t know where to start, but George understood, and suddenly there were soft lips on his, warm comforting kisses grounding him, pinning him to the earth as though telling him he could never leave it. And Matty kissed back just as passionately, slowly but surely, like this was the one thing that was definite. Slowly, George pulled away, like he didn’t want to but Matty could see he was a man on a mission, he had come here with an idea and he needed to see it through before he could do anything else. He had always been like that.

‘I think you should see for yourself.’ He declared

‘What?’ Matty was confused, bewildered at the apparent change of topic.

‘You need to stop being scared of who you are Matty, there’s a mirror right there and you need to look in it and see who you are instead of getting caught up in your incredibly vivid imagination.’ Matty was on edge again, he thought George had understood. He did not want to see himself. He wanted to look at himself through George’s eyes, he wanted to believe the nice things he had been told instead of looking for himself and finding them to all be lies and fantasies.

‘I don’t want to George, I believe you, isn’t that enough?’ ‘No. it’s not. Because this isn’t about me. It’s about you. You decided you’re going to rehab. You decided to not do any drugs today. You decided to call me earlier instead of just fucking off for a bit which is what you have been doing for at least a year. And you need to understand what you look like before you have to face up to all the other demons which are inside of you, waiting to be banished so you can return being happy and healthy by yourself. Not alone, because I will always be here to support you, as will Hann and Ross and Poppy and your family, but independently.’

Matty hated to admit it but his words made sense. They sounded like something he should absorb, take on board and actually listen to, rather than just some made up bullshit to make him feel better. ‘Ok just…’

‘Just what?’

‘Just kiss me first.’

George let out a little laugh ‘Of course’ he replied and leant in to press his lips against Matty’s whilst simultaneously lifting him up until he was standing on his own two feet. When the pulled apart George’s firm hands turned him until he was standing in front of the mirror.

‘That was a dirty trick’ Matty looked at George and complained, thinking how unfair it was that George would use his superior strength to instigate this when he knew how much it turned him on.

‘So was you trying to distract me with snogging’ George laughed again and turned Matty’s head ‘Just, look’

And somehow, Matty did. He looked. He looked at himself for the first time in a week and his shoulders sagged, letting out tension he hadn’t realised he was holding. Despite all of George’s words he had still believed he would look in that mirror and see some sort of teen wolf staring back at him, the monster he truly believed he was. Instead he saw himself. A tired, hungry, slightly unstable version of himself, but still himself. And behind him he saw George, holding him up with his arm round him, but that wasn’t just George. It was his family, his bandmates, his friends- his real friends mind, not any of those fake ones. He could see everyone he cared about there, in George’s eyes. And at that moment he made up his mind.

‘I’m going to Barbados on Monday. I’ll see Hann and Ross tomorrow and I’ll invite Poppy too- we’ll have brunch with them and I’ll pay as a thank you for everyone putting up with me. And then on Sunday we’re going home, and I’ll see my parents and Louis and we’ll tell them what’s going on and then on Monday morning you can drop me off at the airport and I’ll go to Barbados. And I’ll come back in a month and I’ll be better, better to myself and better to you, and then we can make music again. I promise.’ Matty declared it all decisively, because he knew that if he had a plan it would be much easier to follow through and actually do it.

‘Ok, that all sounds good, what do you want to do right now though?’ George looked at him and the love in his eyes radiated off of him so brightly that Matty couldn’t have denied it even if he wanted to. And then Matty’s stomach growled and ruined the moment and they both laughed.

‘Right now, I want Chinese and shit tv and then I want to fall asleep with you.’ Matty decided, because he had only just become aware of how hungry and tired he was. ‘That sounds perfect’ George smiled brightly and Matty truly believed that this would all be Ok in the end.

**Epilogue (a month later):**

Matty walked through the door of his flat with a true Rockstar entrance. He had banned George from picking him up from the airport because it had been a very last minute decision to come home instead of his bandmates flying out for a holiday in Barbados, but Matty wanted to start on music now please so he had changed the plan and George, being the social butterfly he was, already had plans, so Hann had picked him up and dropped him off and told him how good he looked but the one person whose opinion mattered to him was waiting on the sofa in the flat, lounging and watching the x factor, just like the last night before Matty had left. But it was all different now, Matty was better, much better, and he was going to treat George better too.

He began this plan by walking over to the sofa and practically throwing himself onto George. Kissing him with all the fervour and passion of a month’s worth of missed kisses, plus all of the missed kisses from before, when he was just being a fucking dick. He could feel George smiling into the kiss as he pulled away, just as relaxed and sure as he always was, Matty’s anchor, holding him down so he couldn’t float away in his own head and kill everybody on board.

‘So,’ Matty said, sitting up so he was straddling George’s lap and flinging his arms out to show himself off dramatically ‘How do I look?’

George laughed his incredible laugh and sat up to kiss Matty once more before replying.

‘Effervescent.’


End file.
